


Wild

by kasiapeia



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Large amounts of profanity, Porn with Feelings, Rare Pair, Spoilers for Nuka-World (but very minor ones)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-05-27 00:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasiapeia/pseuds/kasiapeia
Summary: The new Overboss doesn't look like much--she doesn't have the build of a fighter, doesn't have the physical strength necessary of an Overboss, but Ava's the only shot Nuka-World has got, and damn if she isn't hard to figure out.Mason doesn't like not getting what he wants, and what he wants is her, but Ava isn't just some prey to be caught by the Pack Alpha. She's got teeth and she isn't afraid to use them, but he's got teeth too, and he's not afraid to use them either.





	1. Chapter 1

If Mason hadn’t seen it happen with his own two eyes, he wouldn’t have believed the scene before him. Hell, even if he had seen the fucking thing, he was doubting that what he was seeing was real. Is this all just another psycho-induced fever dream, because it sure as hell is starting to feel like it.

But, fuck, the stunned silence of those around him only confirms that this is very much real, though that doesn’t change the fact that there is no way in _hell_ this scrawny lass should have been able to do what no one else could. He can’t even count the amount of people he had seen die to Colter’s hands. That she’s alive is a miracle. Colter had been decked out in a full suit of power armour, and she’s wearing—what? A fucking tattered ass black jacket, and a few pieces of leather armour?

Mason grinds his teeth together as he stares down at the woman in the centre of the ring. Colter had been nearly untouchable, nearly invulnerable, nearly—

 _Nearly_ , clearly, was not nearly enough.

Her face is splattered with Colter’s blood, even after she had tried to wipe it away with the back of one gloved hand. It had already started to dry, the colour the same as her deep, auburn hair. Most of the nails of her right hand had been torn out when she had pried Colter’s helmet off of him to put a bullet between the old Overboss’ eyes. Colter had struck her sometime during the fight, backhanding her without enough strength to create the large gash that now stretches across her forehead, and cut open her lip. She doesn’t even seem to notice, pursing her split lips as she glances upwards, squinting against the light in her eyes. He knows she can’t see him, what with the lights, and the clouded glass separating them, but somehow, her eyes meet his regardless. Warm, brown eyes, that would have been innocent, and doe-like if not for the dangerous glint behind those irises.

She may not look like much, but she’s clearly stronger than she lets on. She has the same look in her eyes as the animals in the Zoo who refuse to die peacefully. This is the woman who had just killed Colter, he reminds himself. This is the woman…

This is the woman who is their new Overboss.

And after a moment’s pause, Mason claps.

He doesn’t know if she’s what Nuka-World needs, but she’s the only chance they’ve got, and if she fails… Well then on Gage’s head, so be it. The bastard’s the one who set up the Gauntlet, and the one who’d helped her defeat Colter. If this all goes tit’s up, then at least Mason can rest easy knowing that he’s not the one to blame. Even if Nisha will un-fucking-doubtedly try to pin it on him, but that girl’s always been more than a little psychotic.

His second, Aidan, looks to him, his painted face wrought with concern. “What we gon’ do?”

Mason pushes himself to his feet, folding his arms across his chest as he watches Gage usher the brown-haired woman out of the arena. “Nothin’. She won, and we’ve got ourselves a new Overboss, boys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This originally started off as an experimental piece to see how different of a voice I could give the narration of a piece, seeing as a pretty much solely write in third person. Mason seemed like a good person to play around with--I've been wanting to do a vulgar and violent protagonist for a while, and it was a good way to procrastinate writing _Untarnished_ which is a lot more plot heavy than this.
> 
> And hey, this has got some smut, so I figured y'all would appreciate it, especially since it's such a rarepair. (WHICH IS SHOULDN'T BE. BOY LOOKS LIKE OLGIERD VON EVEREC FROM THE WITCHER IN FALLOUT... Actually, that's probably why. Fewer people play the DLCs compared to the main game, but ah, here I am, contributing to a rarepair.)


	2. Chapter 2

Up close, the new Overboss doesn’t look like much either. Last time, he could have dismissed it as nothing more than the distance, but up close… Shit. The girl’s tiny as all hell, barely even meets his chin, and even if she’s got a little weight to her, she’s still _nothing_ compared to half the people ‘round here. Mason doubts that she’d be frightening even in a suit of fucking power armour. Hell, he could probably just pick her up and throw over Nuka-World’s walls if he ever has a problem with her.

Not that Gage wouldn’t cut off his hand for that, but still.

It’s nice to know that he has the option.

Even then, despite not being physically intimidating, the ruckus of the Zoo quiets as she passes through. It isn’t quiet—it’s the fucking Zoo, after all—but people stop jeering at the fighting animals long enough to watch her stride towards the raised dais upon which he sits. If the Pack is made up of wolves, then shit, she’s a fox. Faster than they are, and thrice as sly. They have raw strength, but what good is raw strength if they can’t lay a single finger on her?

Mason can feel the Pack’s eyes on him as he leans back into his gilded chair, one hand braced beneath his sharp jaw. The bones hanging around his neck rattle as he moves. “Makin’ the rounds, are we? Not a bad idea. People ‘round here will be happy to have Colter out of the picture. I’da killed him myself, but…” He trails off, uncertain of how she’s reacting to his words. Her amber eyes stay trained on him the entire time he speaks, the effect nothing but Nisha levels of unnerving.

“Guess you missed your chance.” Fuck, even her voice isn’t what he’d expect from the woman who killed Colter. It’s too soft, like the rest of her, with an ever-so-slight lilt. The only hardness of it comes from the rasp of her dry mouth, but he daren’t offer her a drink. Not yet. He isn’t that hospitable. Gage had helped her clean up a bit, wiping the majority of the blood from her face, and a few stimpaks had accelerated the healing of her wounds, leaving her skin mottled with blues and purples. “Figured I’d make the rounds, though. Seeing as we’ll be working together. Or, rather, you’ll be working for me.”

He snorts. “Working for you. Yeah. Sure. By the looks of it though… Not sure if I’m buying this new Overboss thing.”

“I don’t give a damn if you’re not buying it.” It’s just like that dark look her eyes when she speaks. All soft on the outside, but no softness can hide the amount of venom that drips from her words. “I’m your new Overboss. Get onboard and do what I tell you, and we won’t have a problem. Unless you want to have a problem, in which case I’d tell your second to prepare to take over ‘cause you won’t live long enough to see the sun rise.”

Shit. She’s almost as scary as Nisha too. Perhaps he’s wrong. Girl’s got backbone, and she ain’t afraid to use it. “You might make it out of here alive after all. Name’s Mason. The Pack Alpha.”

“Ava,” she returns, teeth all bared in a facsimile of a smile.

“That short for something?”

“Yeah: none of your fucking business, that’s what.” Touchy subject, apparently, and one he’ll need to press her on later when she isn’t still hyped up on adrenaline and wary of all the Raiders she’s surrounded by. “I’d say it’s a pleasure, but you live in a fucking shit hole. I know American’s gone downhill since the War, but shit, haven’t any of you heard of a bath? Or _soap_?”

“Hey now,” he says, souring. He can deal with offences to his honour, but insulting the Zoo? The Pack? Nah. He ain’t taking that shit from her. “This here’s our side of town. You might be Overboss—for now. But I’m boss of the Pack. And it’s going to stay that way. Long as you don’t forgettin’ that, we’re gonna be fine.”

Ava cocks her head to the side, more curious than anything else. “The Pack? Fitting. You smell like animals.”

She even fucking _sounds_ like Nisha. Fuck Ava, and fuck Gage. Fuck Gage especially. This girl’s going to be the death of Nuka-World. “Never heard that one before,” he replies through gritted teeth. “Look. It ain’t like anyone’s broke up about Colter. Just figured on his replacement being… Well, different, but we all fuckin’ roll over for Gage nowadays, and if Gage says you’re the boss, you’re the boss.”

This is his territory, his home turf. He knows Nuka-World better than she does, and he has a dozen of his men a hair’s breadth away in case things go south, but shit, she has him worried that he should have a gun out or something. “You don’t want to be Overboss?” she asks, brow arched. Is this a test? Some sort of way of judging how much of a threat he’ll be to her position?

He’s never been good at lying. Not to say that he couldn’t lie, but the sort of skulking around, manipulation shit? That was Mag’s job. Let her and her brother plot and scheme with their Operators. Nah, the Pack is straightforward, and even if a part of him suspects that he shouldn’t be showing his hand, he’s the last honest man in Nuka-World and Ava needs to know that.

Mason leans further back into his chair, gripping the armrest. “If I thought the other gangs would go along, yeah, I’d run this place in a heartbeat. Might have to—if you turn out to be a turd. At least you ain’t Mags Black, or that freak Nisha. Besides, you can’t possibly be worse than Colter.” Colter isn’t exactly a good comparison by which to judge Ava. The bar’s practically set on the ground right now, and any small success would be better than nothing.

“I have plans. I’ll inform you when they’re more concrete.”

She’s more considerate than Colter too, Mason thinks. “Maybe you’re the real deal,” he says, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. “But we thought Colter was the real deal, too. And he’s laying in a pool of his own blood. Don’t get me wrong. Colter was definitely Overboss. Not a man to mess with, and things were good in the beginning. Real good. But that was a year ago. Then Colter went soft. Wanted to ‘take stock in what we achieved.’ Sure, this place beats living in the shitholes we had out there, but it ain’t the palace of caps we signed on for. Ain’t none of us happy—not even the Disciples. And they’re normally a chipper bunch so long as they’re drenched in blood.”

“How pleasant.”

“Yeah, you’ll be meetin’ them soon, I suspect. Things were going to hell fast, you see, but Gage put the brakes on that. Got us together, and promised he’d find someone to deal with Colter.”

She grits her teeth. “If I catch word you’re trying to get rid of me like you got rid of Colter…”

It’s a possibility they’ll have to consider if Ava turns out to be right shit, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Yeah, sure. Boss.” He doesn’t like calling this tiny little woman that. He doesn’t like anyone being above him. The only reason he’d even called Colter “Boss” was because the man could have knocked out all his teeth just by flicking him. “I get it. I do. We’re totally willing to give you a chance…” He blows out a breath. “Look. Let’s cut to the chase. You going to do right by the Pack?”

Ava only laughs, throwing her head back in amusement. The sound is half windchimes, half grating ice. Cold, and warm, cruel, and kind, all at the same time. She steps up onto the dais fully, leaning over him as he sits in his throne. “Do right by the Pack?” she repeats in a low voice. “You Raiders are all children. I don’t need to do right by any of you.”

Mason goes to stand, ready to defend himself, but she shoves him back down into his chair with the flick of her hand, surprisingly strong.

“You had to get an outsider to save you from the shithole that you’ve made of this place. Haven’t even managed to capture half of the goddamn park in a year. So, no, I’m not going to do right by the Pack.” Mason’s blood burns under his skin at her words. “I’m going to do what needs to be done, and you…” She leans in so close that he can see every single one of the faded freckles smattered across her nose and cheeks. Freckles. She fucking has freckles, and she’s got him almost pinned to his chair. “You’re going to be a good dog, and do what you’re told, or you’ll be put down.”

He wants to hit something, maybe her, but he isn’t the kind to hit a woman without due reason. His mama taught him better than that, God rest her soul. And even if she hadn’t taught him that, Ava’s still Overboss, and he doesn’t want Gage coming down on his ass. He’s starting to see what Gage sees in her. Girl’s got a backbone, and girl’s got teeth. Almost as wild of an animal as he is, but Mason had rolled over for Colter, and he had rolled over for Gage. He doesn’t plan on rolling over for her.

“Not in front of my guys, alright?” he says in a low voice, shooting her a wink. “You got enough to worry about without a dominance struggle inside the Pack to deal with.”

She’s a good liar, but she can’t hide the way she recoils at his words, surprised by the turn he’d taken. Still, she refuses to back down. “It’s not a dominance struggle,” she says, the waver in her voice giving her away. “You’ll listen to me, and you’ll obey.”

“Pet, I don’t do well with being given orders,” he says. “I’m usually the one putting people in their place, not the other way ‘round. Don’t make me show you that I’m not to be messed with. You wouldn’t enjoy it.” It’s so subtle he barely notices it, his eyes locked on hers as they stare each other down, but she swallows. Shit. It looks like the girl’s got another side to her, one that she hides. He almost wants to laugh. Most powerful woman in the park, and he wonders if, maybe, she would enjoy it after all. “You know what? I think we’re not so different me and you.” He reaches beside him, pulling out his favourite rifle. He hands it to her with a smile. “I want you to have this. Consider it a token of our mutual understanding… and respect.”

She stiffens, but takes the Problem Solver from him without a word.

“I’ll be keepin’ an eye on you, little fox,” he says as she turns to leave, rifle clutched tight in her hand. He has to raise his voice to shout over the commotion as his men return to their duties. “Life ain’t easy ‘round here, especially when you don’t know who you can trust.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she shoots back at him, slamming the Zoo’s door behind her as she leaves.

And Mason slowly lets go of the armrest, surprised to discover that he'd been gripping it so tight that he’d left small crescent indents in the wood.


	3. Chapter 3

A week later, he receives a summons. The Overboss has kept to herself since she’d got here, doing God only knows what she’s doing up at the Fizztop Grille—probably renovating the shit out of the mess that had been Colter’s quarters. Those mannequins had always been creepy. Hopefully, she’d tossed them into the trash where they belonged. Maybe she’s been fleshing out her plan for the park. They need someone with their shit together, rather than someone who made shit up as they went along as Colter had.

The message is simple, written on a scrap of paper in writing that’s far too fancy for a simple Raider.

**_My place. Noon. Tomorrow. Be there, or I’ll drag you there by the collar myself._ **

**_– Ava_ **

She doesn’t beat around the bush, that much is for certain. She’d rather keep her mouth shut and avoid answering entirely than give a half answer. Mason almost debates showing up late, just to show her up, but she doesn’t need another reason for the other leaders to doubt her authority. The girl’s already got her work cut out for her. He ends up running late regardless, having slept in a few minute’s too long, but there’s a difference between five fucking minutes, and an hour. She won’t notice five minutes. Hopefully. He hadn’t even had the time to apply the usual paint to his face.

“Let him through,” Ava says without looking up as Gage stops him from stepping off the elevator, hand on the Alpha’s chest. Mags and William Black, and Nisha are already waiting for him, strewn out across Ava’s sofas. William inspects a book he’d plucked from a rather large stack on the coffee table, flipping through the pages. Mason’s almost surprised. Not many people read nowadays, much less read well enough to warrant having a small library.

“Sure you don’t want me to check him for weapons, Boss?” Gage drawls.

She laughs, still pouring over the papers strewn across the table before her. “Oh, he’s undoubtedly armed. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Her eyes flick upwards to meet his, mischief sparkling in her hazel irises. “Am I wrong?”

“Spoken to me once, and you’ve already got me figured out.” He isn’t certain that that’s a good thing, but it’s… It’s definitely a thing alright, and one he can’t change. “Why’d you ask me to come?”

 “We’re taking back the Park,” Ava says as though they’ll have the easiest time wiping out the rabble from the abandoned parks. Like there isn’t all sorts of fucking monsters just waiting to eat them out there. “Nuka-World won’t survive in this sorry state. We need to expand. Need more territory, more caps. The like.”

Five parks between three gangs. This won’t go over well, but Mason keeps his mouth shut. Everyone in the room knows that one gang’s gonna have to go one park short, unless Ava’s got tricky something up her sleeve. “You’ve got a plan then, Boss?”

“Go in, and kill anything that stands in my way, yeah.” Fuck, he wishes that it were that simple. They’ve tried that plan before, and it had never worked, but then again, he’d thought that killing Colter would be impossible, and yet… “You got a park you want?”

“Safari Kingdom.” He doesn’t hesitate, the answer spilling from his lips in a second.

She smiles wickedly. “Fitting.” She turns back to look at her papers, and he realises that it’s a rather accurate drawing of the park grounds. Had she made that? “I’ll see what can be done. That’s all. You’re all dismissed.”

She’d summoned him to her place just to have a five minute exchange with him? A part of him knows that she’s just showing off. She may be new, but she still has all of them on a leash, and she’s not afraid to demonstrate just how short that leash is. They might as well all be wearing fucking shock collars.

“Well thank you all for that _lovely_ conversation,” Nisha drawls, dark eyes flashing as she picks up her metal mask from the table. Her blunt hair swings as she starts towards the door, muttering about this had been a waste of her time. Mason doesn’t even see Ava move, but the next thing he knows, a combat knife is sticking out from the wooden door, the handle mere inches away from Nisha’s face. The leader of the Disciples is no easy woman to startle but even she flinches backwards away from the knife. Nisha whirls round to glare at the Boss, hands curled into fists. “What the fuck—”

“Shut up.” Ava doesn’t even sound angry. She’s calm, almost too calm, but the look in her eyes is dangerous. “You’re pretty damn lucky I’m even offering you a park, Nisha. I’m under no obligation to help you.”

“If you want my respect, _Boss_ , you have to earn it,” Nisha shoots back. “You’ve got a lot to prove. A child could fill Colter’s shoes.”

“And yet, none of you got rid of him. Call me replaceable all you want, but you’ll be hard pressed to find someone willing to put up with this sort of shit, much less someone who isn’t an absolute psychopath.”

She laughs under her breath, shaking her head. “I see why Gage likes you. I bet he’s happy he has a new ass to kiss.”

Gage snarls, starting towards Nisha, but stops in his tracks when Ava holds up a hand. Even Mags and William look ready to hit Nisha. They’re not loyal to anyone or anything but caps, but Nisha’s toeing the line. They might all be waiting to see how Ava plays out, but they need to give her a chance before they start coming for her head. The girl’s not going to get anything done if she’s constantly having to look over her shoulder.

Slowly, Ava steps away from the table, her hands in her pockets. He doesn’t know how her nonchalance can appear so threatening, but it’s almost like she’s above Nisha’s jabs. She’s above it all, unaffected by everything the Disciples’ leader has to throw her way.

“Be careful,” Nisha says, but she swallows to hide her discomfort as Ava leans in close. “I’m not a woman you want on your bad side.”

And Ava fucking _smiles_ as she reaches behind Nisha’s head to grab her knife from where it had been stuck in the door. The blade is scarily close to Nisha’s cheek as she pulls it out from the wood before she returns it to its sheath on her upper thigh. It’s good to know that she’s just as much of a hard-ass to the others as she had been to him. Not that Nisha hadn’t had it coming.

“And nor,” Ava says, finger beneath Nisha’s chin to force her to look her in the eyes, “am I.” She drops her hand, turning on her heel as she returns to her table. “Mason. I need to speak to you. The rest of you can leave.”

Mags and William don’t say a word to her as they follow Nisha out. Gage is the only one who lingers behind, his one good eye focused on Ava as he places a hand on her forearm. His brow is fraught with concern. “I’ll see you tonight?”

She nods almost absentmindedly, as though she isn’t quite listening, and waves him off. “I’ll see you then.” Ava clasps her hands behind her back as she turns back to her makeshift war table. She looks a little less wild today, hair all done up and shit like she’s a real, civilised woman instead of the Overboss of this goddamn shitstain of a park. It’s all tied back, knotted at the nape of her neck all pretty like—nothing like a woman like Nisha would wear. Ava’s a wild animal alright, and a goddamn attractive one at that, and Mason’s starting to think that she’s more of a she-wolf than a fox.

But then she comes in with a question that leaves him stammering for a response that won’t leave him looking like a right fool.

“We’re taking back Safari Kingdom tomorrow. What time should I drop by the Zoo?” She might as well be speaking about the weather. “You an early riser?”

“Why the fuck would you be stopping by the Zoo?” he settles for in the end.

She gives him a dark look, as though she can’t believe he doesn’t know the answer to his own question. “If you think I’m taking back territory for you without you, you’re wrong. Of course, if you don’t _want_ Safari Kingdom, I’m certain Mags would be—”

“I want Safari Kingdom,” he spits through gritted teeth. “Caught me off guard. That’s all. Colter always wanted me at arm’s length. And can we _not_ do it early?”

“What would you prefer?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, like four?”

“In the afternoon?” She can’t hide her laughter, but she manages to smile through it. “It’s up to you, and if that’s what you want…”

“I don’t like mornings,” Mason mutters. “Pack’s a… rowdy bunch, and my nights are rather busy with shit that leaves me tired in the morning, you get me?”

She turns a delightful shade of crimson as images of him ploughing some Pack girl go through her mind. Ava clears her throat. “I’ll be at the Zoo at four. I expect you to be dressed, and armed.” She leans back against the table, one brow arched. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, is that what you were up to last night? Seeing as you were a solid five minutes late to the meeting?”

“Trust me, pet, if I was fucking some girl last night, you’d have heard it,” Mason says, unable to hold back his smile as her flush deepens. Fuck, their new Overboss has got some sides to her she doesn’t show all that much. “What’s goin’ on with you and Gage, hm? Some chicks dig that whole one-eyed thing. Scars n’ shit.”

“Gage and I aren’t a thing.” Her response comes too quickly, and he knows that she had considered the idea before.

“You want him to be? ‘Cause, shit, you’re the new Overboss and you can take what you want, when you want. Ain’t no one going to say no to you.” _Especially not when you look the way you do_. Raider girls are nice and all, but what he wouldn’t give to have Ava’s mouth wrapped around his cock. Girl looks like she’s stepped out of a fucking pre-War ad, with her long, silky hair, doe eyes, and her lips that seem to be _begging_ him to fuck them. Even if they’re still split from her fight with Colter.

“I thought ‘taking what you wanted’ was the Pack’s deal,” she says. “Word of warning: if I get a single complaint that your men have been raping people, I’ll kill them myself.”

He barks laughing. “Oh, pet, you think the girls we fuck don’t want it? Nah, I’ll excuse a lot of shit, murder included, but there’s certain things I won’t let my guys get away with it. Some of them will put up a fight, but trust me, they’re always given a fair opportunity to say no, and leave with no harm done. Not gonna force myself on a woman when there’s a line of volunteers, know what I mean?”

“Sure.”

“You sound like you don’t believe I’ve got volunteers.” Mason takes a step closer towards her, almost pinning her against the war table. A smirk twitches at his lips beneath his ginger moustache. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I don’t fuck girls who are tripping over their feet just to be able to speak to me. That ain’t fun. Nah, I play the long game. I see what I want…” He brushes a stray lock of hair away from her face, deliberately dragging his finger across her jaw. “And I make them beg to have me. I like the chase.”

“Why,” she says, unable to disguise the way her breath hitches in her throat, “am I not surprised?”

He laughs quietly, the sound low and dark. Her pupils almost eclipse her eyes as she watches him. “So, yeah, if you catch word that one of mine has been raping people? Feel free to put their head on a pike, but trust me when I say that I’m above such shit.”

“Good to know that a Raider has morals.”

“Hey now, my Ma raised me better than that, alright?” he says, leaning in even closer to her, almost forcing her to take a seat on the table. Mason’s eyes flash with something dangerous and hungry. “Besides. There’s something satisfying about watching someone finally give in. Means it takes longer for me to take anyone to bed, but I ain’t Nisha. I don’t want a dozen men and women hanging from my arm. Nah, I’d rather wake up alone, knowing that I’m one day closer to having the girl I want on her knees for me, my cock in her mouth.”

“Well then I wish you luck with your endeavours, Mason,” she says, placing a hand on his chest. She applies just enough pressure to make it clear that she wants him away from her, and surprise crosses her face as he takes a step back.

“Don’t need luck,” he says with a wicked smile. “Already got my eyes on my next target.”

If she’s against the idea, she doesn’t say so, and nothing about her body language does either. She almost seems to be saying the opposite, her cheeks still flushed, and her eyes still blown wide. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mason,” she says. “Four.”

“Sounds good, pet.”

“ _Boss_ ,” she corrects. “Or Ava.”

“Nah, you hear that shit from everything else. Like to be a little more creative,” he says, doubling over in an unnecessarily dramatic bow, hands out on either side of him in a flourish. “See you tomorrow.”

For a second, he fears that perhaps she’ll be even harder to get than the other women he’s bedded before. God knows she’s stronger than them alright. The others probably couldn’t have laid a single finger on Colter, much less kill him. But then— “I like this new look,” she says to his back. “Who’d have thought you’d actually look like a person under all that paint?”

He looks over his shoulder, baring his teeth in a smile. “Trust me, pet, I’m all animal,” he says, shooting her a wink as he shuts the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Ava shows up at the Zoo at six the next day, on the dot if the clock they’d only just managed to get working again is anything to go by. She has the Problem Solver strapped across her back, the bright, gaudy Pack colours standing out against the black fabric of her coat. A revolver is holstered on her waist, just above the combat knife she’d thrown at Nisha’s head the day before. She has a small pack of supplies slung over her one shoulder.

“Is that all you’re taking?” She eyes his shotgun with far too much judgement, her lower lip curled in something akin to disgust. Why does she care? It’s not like she’s responsible for him. In Nuka-World, it’s every Raider for themselves. He is loyal to his brothers and sisters in the Pack alright, but to the boss?

“Got a problem?” Mason returns her question with one of his own, one ginger brow raised. “Not prepared enough for you?”

She shrugs, not giving him an answer, and jerks her head towards the door. He almost has to run to catch up with her, but he doesn’t mind. He’s always been good at chasing after the things he wants. He doesn’t know if he wants Ava so much as he wants to her want him, not that she isn’t the finest damn thing around for miles.

It’s a short walk to the outskirts of Safari Kingdom. The park is nothing short of foreboding. Somewhere deep inside, all manner of creatures snarl and growl. Perhaps Ava had been right in bringing more supplies than him. He isn’t one to pray to a god of any sort, but shit, he’s starting to think they need the blessing of something a little more powerful than they are.

“Boss—” he starts.

“I hear them,” she says, hand resting on her revolver, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice. “Do you know what we should expect?”

“Sorry, pet, but no. Ain’t nobody that’s gone in there and returned alive.”

She purses her lips together, eyes on the wrought iron gates to the park. “Helpful. Thanks.”

The answer to her question, as they discover shortly thereafter, was gators. Giant, mutated gators not unlike the Deathclaws that roam the fucking Wasteland. Bullets bounce off their leathery hide, leaving behind nothing but the lightest of scrapes. Shit, fuck, crap, dammit, shit, shit, shit shitshit _shit_ —

The slap of Mason’s feet against the pavement as he runs matches the pounding of the blood in his ears. He can hear the gator mere paces behind him, its claws scraping the stones as it chases after him and Ava. He doesn’t even know where he’s going. He’s just running as fast, and as far as his feet can take him. He needs to be anywhere that isn’t where the fucking monster trying to kill him is.

“Boss, what are you—” Mason starts as Ava grabs him by the arm and drags him down an alley, but the next thing he knows, she’s throwing him to the ground. What the fuck is she doing? Is she leaving him behind to save her own sorry ass? That’s a whole thing, isn’t it? She doesn’t have to run faster than the gator. She’s just got to run faster than him.

But then, a clang of metal, and a deafening roar, and Mason realises what Ava had done. Safari Kingdom is littered with iron cages, their inhabitants long since dead, but they had been designed to keep out the finest beasts pre-War America had had to offer, and they can keep the monsters out just as much as they can keep them in. The gator snarls, trying to shove its mouth through the gaps between the bars, but it’s useless.

“You couldn’t have given me a fucking warning?” Mason snaps, glaring at a breathless Ava as she watches the gator struggle to break into the cage. It paces relentless outside the door, pausing only to slam itself against the bars.

“I had greater concerns on my mind,” she says, letting out a breath when the gator snaps again before skulking back off into the park. Ava doubles over, falling to the ground, and for one, brief, _terrifying_ second Mason’s half scared that she’s dead, but that’s before he hears the breathless gasps that are escaping her.

“Are you _laughing_?” Jesus fucking Christ, she’s insane. She’s even more insane than Colter. They were just chased down by a giant, hulking beast of a gator, and she’s on the ground _laughing_. Fuck this. They’re both going to die, and his body’s going to fucking rot in the sun ‘cause nobody else in the Pack’s insane enough to try to come in here.

“No,” she says between laughs. “Yes.”

“Have you lost your fucking mind? We could’ve died!”

“Yes, yes, but like—” She snorts. “This is just so… ridiculous. Better to find humour in it than have my panties all up in a knot like you, hm?”

“The fuck does that mean?”

She stops laughing, a flush making its way up onto her cheeks again. “You know. Women’s… undergarments. Usually of the lacy sort.”

 If she weren’t so embarrassed, he’d have laughed. “I know what panties are, pet. Torn my fair share off of women before. I mean why they fuck they’re in a knot.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t end up answering his question, looking down at her hands in her lap. Her hair had started to fall out of its knot already, half of it tumbling down her back in dark auburn waves. “Shit. I dropped my bag.”

“Which is important because…?”

“Because it had all our food in it, you dipshit,” she shoots at him. “As well as fire materials. We’d probably have finished clearing this park if we’d started this morning, but seeing as someone can’t get up before noon, we’re stuck here for the night, and it’s going to be fucking _freezing_.”

“You complain a whole lot, you know that?”

“You’re a dick a whole lot, you know that?” She mutters something he doesn’t catch under her breath. “And,” she continues, louder, “seeing as you neglected to bring anything but a shotgun, you’re going to freeze your man-tits off tonight. Seriously, do you not have anything with a little more fabric?”

He glances down at his threadbare tank top, brow arched. “Most women don’t mind much when I wear this shirt. You’re the first one to complain.”

“It’s impractical.”

“Right, because your coat isn’t a tripping hazard,” he says, nudging the excess fabric around her feet. Why does she need it to be so long? It’s not like it’s cold enough to warrant buttoning up. Sure, sleeves are nice and all, but he usually isn’t sitting in one place long enough to get cold. He hadn’t anticipated her locking him in a cage with her. “Might as well get comfortable, pet. Sun’s starting to set, and we don’t want to be trapped out there in the dark with whatever the fuck those things are.”

“Hadn’t crossed my mind,” she drawls.

“Hey, are you a piece of shit just to me as you are to everyone else? You’re a bitch to Nisha alright, but you’re weirdly nice to Gage. Ain’t no one that nice to someone without getting something from them, if you catch my drift.”

Her glare is practically venomous, and he wonders if he’d pushed her too far with that comment. She’d already made it clear that she and Gage aren’t a thing— _it’s only been a week, Mason, it might happen in the future_ , he tells himself—and she isn’t the kind of woman to put up with his shit more than once. She pushes herself to her feet, pulling out her revolver, and for a split second, he fears she’s going to shoot him. “I’ll take first watch. You should get some sleep.”

“Pet—” he starts.

“You’re an asshole, I hope you’re aware of that,” she says, refusing to hear him out as she settles down on the dirt several feet away, knees pulled up into her chest.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Mason mutters, moving closer towards her. “I swear.”

She doesn’t even look at him.

Fuck, shit, fuck. He’s really fucking messed this up, hasn’t he? They’ve known each other a week, and the only fucking thing he’s done is piss her off. He’s almost surprised that she hasn’t punched him in the face yet. He wouldn’t have held it against her. “Ava,” he says, and this time, she glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry.”

She scoffs.

“Look,” he continues, looking to the door. The large, sliding latch is thicker than his arm is— _which is fucking saying something, mind you_ —and he doubts even a Deathclaw Matriarch could get through it. “That door’ll hold. There’s no point in watching it. You should get some sleep. What time you wake up?”

“Before you, that’s for certain,” she mumbles.

Mason smiles. He knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut for long. “Not sayin’ much, that.”

“Trust me, it’s a point of contention.”

She talks like a fucking pre-War book, one of the ones William’s obsessed with. She doesn’t talk like a Raider, much less the Overboss. He doesn’t know if he can ask her why yet. “You’ll be tired tomorrow. Sleep.”

“Unless one of us would like to sleep on the dirt, one of us has to stay awake.”

“What, you think I can’t keep my hands to myself if we share your sleeping roll?”

“That’s _exactly_ what I think.”

He laughs, low and breathy in her ear. “Trust me, pet, I’d rather have you beg to touch me. Nothin’ quite like it. Almost better than anything else, chems and booze included.”

She shoots him a deathly glare, but lets out a resigned sigh as she unrolls the pre-War duvet serving as her bed roll. It doesn’t do much comfort wise, but it sure as hell keeps the dirt off. He doesn’t normally go to bed this early, he notes. Sun’s only just set, but she’s been up probably since dawn, even if he’s only been awake for a couple five hours. Whatever. He’s more than capable of lying there until sleep overtakes him.

He’ll need to find something to think of though, ‘cause he knows he’ll be thinking about making her scream his name for the entirety of Nuka-World to hear, and he can’t do that when she’s lying next to him. Even he’s got limits, but damn if his pants aren’t feeling a little too tight already.

Ava pats the space behind her, pulling out a small bag of jerky from the inside of her coat. She hands him a piece, and it tastes like a fucking boiled shoe—hell, it might actually be a boiled shoe—but he doesn’t mention it. He isn’t going to insult free food. “Alright,” she says as he settles in beside her. “Why don’t you tell me who Mason is when he isn’t the Alpha, hm?”


	5. Chapter 5

“What?” Mason says, laughing at her question. “You wanna know who I am?”

“As a person, yes,” Ava says, struggling to tear a bite from her own piece of jerky. “We’re to be working together, after all. I’m trying to determine whether or not I want to punch you in the face like I do Nisha. Bitch is as frightening as a philosophy teacher I once had.”

“Where the fuck have you been studying philosophy?”

“I… Never mind.” There’s more to her story, that much is clear, but she doesn’t want to talk about it, and he’ll respect that. “Mags and William are alright. Remind me a lot of people I used to work with. You… You’re still a mystery.”

“Thanks.”

“Wasn’t a compliment.”

“Sure it wasn’t, pet.”

She only shoots him another glare and pulls a dented metal flask from another pocket in her coat. Ava tears a piece off of her jerky before following it with a swig of her alcohol. Its scent is heavy, and he can smell it even from where he sits several feet away. “You’re an asshole,” she says.

“And you’re a bitch,” he returns, half fearful that she’ll take it as an insult rather than a jest, but she snorts with amusement, and tosses him the flash without a word.

The liquor inside tastes like cat piss, but he isn’t going to complain about free booze, even if it’s shit. By the sour look on her face as she smacks her lips together, the alcohol’s taste lingering on her mouth, she isn’t enjoying it much either. Mason takes a second swig from the flask before handing it back to her.

“You’re not what I expected you to be,” he says.

She tilts her head to the side, several loose locks of hair tumbling over one shoulder. “Who did you expect me to be?”

A fucking maniac, he thinks. A power hungry fool who doesn’t care for the people beneath her. He had expected her to be like Colter, or perhaps even worse. She’s twice as clever than he had ever been, and that makes her twice as dangerous.

At the very least, he had expected to her to be nothing more than a body to keep his bed warm at night—a mindless distraction, not someone he’s sharing drinks with like there aren’t fucking monster gators outside. He should just want to fuck her, not want to talk to her, but shit, she makes him want to see if there’s more to life besides this.

Mason had killed people for abandoning the Pack and allowing themselves to be domesticated, but the more he talks to Ava, the more he sees the appeal of leaving this shit behind. He’s known her for one fucking week, but shit, the girl’s cleverer than half the Pack. When she’s not being an antagonising shit, he almost wants to talk to her just for the sake of talking to her.

 _For fuck’s sake_ , he says to himself. _Get your act together. You’re not lonely. You don’t want some sentimental bullshit. It’s just been too long since your last good fuck._

At least that’s what he tells himself, even if it isn’t true.

He doesn’t say any of that though. Instead, he just shrugs, lifting his shoulders. “Dunno,” he says. “Someone who doesn’t turn as red as a tato every time I say shit like wanting to eat you out until you can’t walk the next day.”

Her breath hitches in her throat. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Jesus Christ, is she serious? She has to be joking. “You’ve never had anyone do that? Shit, pet, that’s a crime.” He considers for a brief moment that he might be her first. It’d explain why she looks like a fucking schoolgirl every time he brings up anything that’s mildly scandalous. She doesn’t respond, resting her hands in her lap and knotting them only to unknot them aimlessly.

“So,” he says, “what’s your story is then?” Mason’s too curious for his own good, he knows that, and Ava’s not the type of gal to just be giving away all her secrets cause he asked nicely. Still, his curiosity has worked in his favour before. He hadn’t always been Alpha, and if he hadn’t asked ‘round as to how he could get rid of the asshole that had been his predecessor, he’d not be standing her now.

But Jack—or Jackal, as they had called him—was a lot more straightforward, and a lot less fucking tragic than the Overboss.

Ava pretends not to hear his question, eyes on her hands, but she can’t hide the muscle that clenches in her jaw. As a rule of thumb, she’s not an entirely shit liar, but everyone’s got their weak spot, and this is hers.

“Pretty thing like you don’t just come walking into a place like this, and joins up with people like me for no reason. You’re too fucking clever to be spending your days hanging ‘round here,” Mason continues, not giving a damn that she hasn’t answered his question. They’re both adults, and if she doesn’t want to discuss this, then he expects her to tell her so.

“Who says there has to be a story?” she asks without looking at him. “Didn’t have much choice when it came to becoming Overboss.”

“Nh, I’ve seen your type before, pet. You could’ve said no to Gage, but you didn’t. You could’ve walked away from all of this once you realised how fucking difficult this’d be, but you didn’t. You could have said that we were gonna fail no matter how much fucking help we go, but we didn’t. You’re running from something, aren’t you? An angry ex? A dead lover? A price on your head?” He shoots a look at the full coin pouch bulging in her pocket. “Ain’t a lack of caps, that’s for fucking certain.”

“That doesn’t mean there’s a story.”

“Then look me in the eyes, and tell me that. Tell me you ain’t running away from something, and I’ll drop it. Told you already, pet. I respect boundaries when you set ‘em, but you gotta set ‘em first.” He almost fears that his suspicions are incorrect, but when she looks at him, not a word slips from her pursed lips. Her frown only deepens as she looks away. “So there _is_ a story.”

“Do me a favour, Mason, and shut the fuck up.”

“Hey now, no need to be rude. Nothin’ wrong with running away, so long as you know that the shit you’re running from is gonna chase you. Unless you’re, the fuck do they call it, running from yourself. In which case, you’re shit out of luck.”

“Speaking from personal experience?”

Mason’s face darkens. “You’ve been here a fucking week, and already you’re the only goddamn person in this whole park who calls me ‘Mason’ and not cause you want something from me. Nisha always says it like she’s tryna remember my name right before she stabs me, and Mags is… Well… Mags. Gotta say I’m not entirely against, and that’s the _only_ reason Imma give you a straight answer, we clear? You fuckin’ repeat this to anyone else—”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good.” Mason combs a hair through his greasy ginger hair as he tries to decide where to start. “I wasn’t always a Raider, y’know. Not the same way Gage wasn’t though. I weren’t no fucking farmer joining the Raiders cause I was angry, and had bullets to spare. Nah, just a normal Wastelander in a family of other normal Wastelanders. Then one day, the Gunners rolled into tow. They ain’t much different from Raiders, yeah? But they’re paid, and for some fucking reason, that makes ‘em ‘more respectable.’ Tell that to them.”

For once, Ava has the sense to bite her tongue.

“They stayed in town a couple o’ nights. Didn’t think much of it, but when they went to leave, they wanted payment. Tried to tell ‘em that we hadn’t asked them ‘round, but they didn’t give a single shit. Put a bullet between my Da’s eyes, and dragged my mother off to the woods. The Gunner boss let each of his men had a turn putting their cock in her before hanging her from a tree. And when they left, I hunted them down. Gathered anyone in town who wanted to kill ‘em too, and we followed them for weeks before cutting them open and feeding them to the wolves. That’s how the Pack got their name, but I didn’t stay with ‘em for long. Handed it over to ol’ Jack, and went on my own. Somehow found myself running with the wolves a year later, and well… Story ain’t much exciting after that.”

Ava wordlessly hands him the flask. It burns a little less going down this time, but perhaps it’s cause the last time had killed half of his fucking nerve endings. “I married young,” she says after a moment’s pause. “Nineteen. Wasn’t all that uncommon back then.” Back then? What does that mean? “My husband… wasn’t the greatest. I think he only married me to show me off to his friends. He, ah…” She trails off again, unable to finish her sentence.

What did the man do to her that she can’t even bring herself to speak of it? He knows he’s a Raider, but shit, he’s got standards. Fuck, if he learns that her husband had hit her, he’ll kill the man. He doesn’t care if he has to cross the entire Wasteland just to chase him down; he’ll make him regret whatever he had done to Ava.

Or, perhaps, he’s reading into things, and overreacting.

“He what?” he prompts, lower lip curling in a snarl. “If he hurt you, I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill him.”

“He’s dead, so it hardly matters what he did to me,” Ava mutters, which only confirms that he hadn’t been reading into things. Even if he’s dead, it still matters. Fuck him, but as Alpha, he’s protective of his shit, and Ava—whether she knows it or not yet—will be his, so long as she will have him that is. Ava takes the flask back from him, gulping down a large mouthful of the foul tasting liquor.

“He ever hit you?”

“Mason.”

“I asked a question, Ava.” Something in his tone makes her grimace as though she realises that he refuses to accept her silence as an answer.

“No,” she says. “It wasn’t like that.”

He’s seen this shit before. People running away from their partners to sign up with the Pack. Some of them had been beat, the others… Hell, they might as well have been hit they were hurt so badly. “So you’re running away from your past, then?”

“Suppose I am now, but that wasn’t how it started. I used to be running towards something. My son. He was stolen from me, but it… didn’t work out. So I killed a bunch of people, made friends with some assholes wearing power armour, blew up a couple buildings, and then when the dust had settled, I got the fuck out of there.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Last year. Something like that. I don’t know. Time all blurs together when you don’t have much to live for. But that’s how I ended up here. There’s more, but I will… I’ll save that for another time.” She looks away again, gaze far off and distant. “Nate wasn’t perfect, but he tried his best. He was… good. He and I had different expectations that’s all, but I suppose that was my fault. Most women weren’t expected to be anything other than housewives in frilly little dresses back then.” Where the fuck has she been living that she’d have been expected to be a housewife? A vault? “Besides. We shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

“Fuck that.”

“ _Mason_ ,” she sighs, and if there weren’t quite so much frustration in her tone, he’d have been quite happy to hear her say his name in such a soft tone.

“I’m serious, pet. Ain’t no man a ‘good man’ if he ain’t willing to bury his head between his gal’s legs, and make her scream.”

Her eyes meet his, something dark and hungry behind those warm irises. Girl might have made a perfect, pretty little housewife on the outside, but on the inside… Shit. She made him nervous, and he couldn’t say that about many people. “And what kind of man are you?”

“Already told you, pet,” he says, a sly smile stretching across his face. “The kind of man who wants to eat you out until you can’t walk the next day.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Don’t matter what I want, pet. What matters is what you want. Ain’t gonna lay a single finger on you if you don’t want me to. Told you that too. I like it when my women forget everythin’ but me for a moment, and beg me to touch them. What does matter is what you want.” He holds her gaze, admiring the way she’s turned bright red again. “So? What’d you want?”


	6. Chapter 6

Ava can’t bring herself to look at him, gaze focused somewhere over his shoulder as though she’s watching the shadows. Hair falls over her eyes, obscuring her just enough that he feels like he shouldn’t be watching her, like he’s sneaking glances at her when he should be doing anything else. “No one’s asked me what I wanted since Harvey tricked me into running the Gauntlet,” she says softly, picking at a loose thread in the blanket. It’s threadbare enough already, and a part of him wants to reprimand her for ruining it further—not that she’d fucking listen to him—but he doesn’t dare.

It’s just—

This is—

 _Shit_.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit._

“Perhaps we should sleep. Long day ahead of us with those fucking things still out there,” he mumbles, ready to lie down and turn over, but she catches him by his shoulder, refusing to let him turn his back to her.

Some foolish part of him almost expects her to have changed her mind.

“I’m sorry,” she says instead of what he wants to hear.

He can’t help his snort of amusement. “Don’t let the boys hear you say that, pet. They’ll be all over you in a hear’beat if they catch whiff of weakness. I know you ain’t weak, pet. You’re tough as fuckin’ nails you are, but apologsin’ don’t help your case.”

Her permanent scowl deepens, arms crossing over her chest. “Listen, Mason, let’s be real. I’m not the Overseer any of you wanted. I’m not some brutish thug like Colter, and I’m not nearly as conniving as Gage—” She ignores the laugh that escapes him. “—but I’m trying my best.”

“That much is clear to me, pet,” he says a moment later, eyes watching her. She’s… nervous, and looks like a bird ready to take to flight, ready to flee at a moment’s notice if he doesn’t say the things she wants to hear. “Listen, I’ve got a no bullshit policy, a’right? Life in the Commonwealth’s short enough for me to be taking the piss, so you ain’t gotta trust me with everythin’—hell, I wouldn’t fuckin’ advise doin’ that—but trust me when I say it’s clear that you’re tryin’. Some of the shit you’ve pulled with Nisha would’ve gotten anyone else killed, but she ain’t gonna kill someone who’s the best chance this park’s got for redemption.”

Ava presses her lips together, her expression unreadable. He can’t tell if she disapproves, or if she appreciates the sentiment. All he knows is that there’s something behind those brown eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I didn’t know you thought so highly of me.”

He shrugs. “To be fair, the bar’s set pretty low. It’d be hard to be worse than Colter.”

A smile twitches at her pursed lips, the only hint to what she might be thinking right about now. “That’s true.” Then, she blinks; her smile and that strange sparkle in her eyes disappearing. “Goodnight, Mason,” she says, pulling her long coat tighter around herself, and lying down with her back to him.

“Goodnight,” he echoes, lying down alongside her, his back pressed up against hers. He can feel the heat of her body even through the thick canvas fabric of her coat. _Get your fucking shit together, Mason,_ he says to himself. _Doesn’t matter how pretty she is, she’s your goddamn Overseer. You might be Pack, but you ain’t a fucking animal._

That doesn’t stop him from getting no sleep that night, haunted by the mere touch of her, and the desperate longing that has begun to gnaw at his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update, but I felt the need to separate Mason's first impressions of Ava from the beginning of their partnership.


End file.
